


Blurry Eyed

by ahhelga



Series: eye contact (viktuuri alt meets/canon divergence aus) [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banquet retelling, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Grand Prix Final Banquet, M/M, Morning After, Panic Attacks, Post-Banquet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2018-10-19 23:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10650645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhelga/pseuds/ahhelga
Summary: Yuri wakes up in an unknown hotel room with no recollection of the night before. He just knows that he really enjoys being cuddled by this mysterious man.Part of a series in which Yuri and Viktor meet at different times other than canon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I thought of this while I was at Easter mass, so I decided to post this up while still fresh on my mind. This is mostly unedited. If you catch any mistakes or issues, please let me know!

The moment he realized he was awake, and not dreaming, was when he felt the arm around him squeeze just a little bit.

Yuri had opened his eyes then, immediately realizing that he was in a foreign room with no glasses on. Idly, he thought that of course he didn't have his glasses on -- he was just sleeping. But he very much wanted to see just where he was and what he was doing there.

So he assessed the situation. He was apparently being cuddled. _Little spoon_ , he thought dimly. He shifted his legs and felt skin; he was tangled up with someone else, and he didn't have pants on. Neither did the other person, apparently. They were in a comfortable side position under the covers, even though he always had difficulty sleeping in new places. He looked down at the pale arm wrapped around his naked torso. It seemed strong and heavy. As he looked down, he took note that he had his briefs on.

He had his briefs on.

Suddenly, his mouth felt full of cotton, and it took everything in him to swallow around the lump in his throat. He was in an _unknown hotel room_ in only his underwear with an awful hangover. Yuri struggled through his headache to remember what he was doing the night before. That's right--

He had failed miserably in the Grand Prix Final, and-- and-- Vicchan.

So it seemed he had drank himself to death (or hangover death), and ended the night with someone else. For the life of him, he couldn't remember anything about the night previous except for hanging out at the drinks table and stealing glances at Viktor Nikiforov. It only seemed fitting that one failure would lead to another; it was just like Yuri to screw up this aspect of his personal life as well.

The weight of his bed mate's arm was nothing compared to the weight beginning in his chest. How did this happen? How did he let it get this far? It wasn't just the taste of embarrassment, but the fact that he didn't know, that he let it happen, and he didn't know. He didn't even remember, and shouldn't he value something like this? He _wanted_ to remember, but more importantly, he wished it happened in another way.

_I don't even normally like physical affection, and I let myself go so far as to do that?_

He willed everything in himself not to cry, but it was impossible with the other person's breath at his neck, as if every exhale was a reminder of his own failures this week. His eyes grew watery as he stared ahead at the bedside clock flashing 6:55. Lost in his efforts not to cry, he almost missed the feeling of the person's lips grazing his neck in a light kiss. 

The tears did spill over then.

He had to leave. 

Yet as he made to get up, the arms around him tightened. Yuri didn't want to disturb his bed mate, but he couldn't face him. Slowly, he started to pick up the arm to get up from the bed and move away from the person. Unfortunately for him, it only made the other arm wrap more tightly around him. Yuri was suddenly hyper aware of the change in breath at his neck.

"What's wrong?" came a male voice, gruff with sleep, at his ear. The use of English momentarily distracted Yuri, but did nothing to keep the tears at bay.

As if the man could sense Yuri's panic, he released Yuri, but kept a hand lightly resting at his back. Whereas Yuri would've previously thought the touch would make him more anxious, it reassured him to know that the man took a step back. He felt grounded by physical contact, as if the man was letting Yuri know he was still there for him. Yuri mentally focused his attention on where the warm fingers met his back as he slowed his crying.

"Yuri?" asked the man after a moment.

The concerned voice startled Yuri. He was calmer, but not really. Here was someone who was cuddling him who obviously knew him, who was seemingly naked with him, and he didn't remember, he _didn't remember_. 

His breathing picked up. The tears were gone, but the panic still settled in his chest. The other man would definitely notice the shaking by now, and he would think so little of Yuri -- if they had done what Yuri thought, of course he would want nothing to do with Yuri now, especially as he was blubbering. He was failing again; he knew, and he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't. He tried taking in another gulp of air. It did little to help as he tried again.

"I--I'm sorry," Yuri said shakily. 

Instantly, the hand that was previously wrapped around him, came to rest on Yuri's arm, softly rubbing in long strokes. It was almost timed--each stroke lasted three seconds and Yuri kept track.

_1, 2, 3._

_1, 2, 3._

"A long time ago," the other man started talking. _1, 2, 3._ "I had left my dog at home to go to an international competition. I was so nervous without her that I kept calling the dog sitter. I don't think he wants to be my dog sitter to this day."

He let out a laugh. Yuri distantly thought it was a nice, familiar laugh.

The man continued, as Yuri counted _1, 2, 3_ , "Anyway, she could hear my voice over the phone, and each time, she would jump on him to try to get to me. At the time, she was smaller than she is now, but a lot bouncier."

_1, 2, 3._

"The sitter got so annoyed, apparently, that he refused to answer my calls, which was incredibly mean, by the way! I wanted to talk to my dear Makka! And my dog had the same idea, too, since she stole his phone and kept it hidden for days."

As the male voice whispered the rest of his story into Yuri's ear, Yuri slowly regained his breathing. The story was distracting, yes, but he was stuck on a few things:

1\. The topic of his story was of the man's dog. So close to Vicchan's death, Yuri still felt the pang of missing his beloved pet. However, instead of making him sad for Vicchan, he felt comforted by the story. It felt relieving that this person would feel the same powerful effect the loss of a pet would have. 

2\. This soothing male voice had a Russian accent. Despite the tone being a lot softer, it reminded him of Viktor's accent so much, and Yuri recalled the look he received, the upturn of his mouth as he said "a commemorative photo?" in that cheery voice. With that, Yuri blew his chance then, but in this moment, he felt tethered to the calming accent at his ear, feeling so different from hearing the cheery lilt of Viktor's or the harshness of the Russian Punk's.

3\. The man's touch kept him calm. Normally, he shied away from anything physical, but in this moment, Yuri didn't mind. If anything, he was glad to feel the rhythmic stroking of his arm. And if this was how he was treated last night, he was... glad to have at least been in good hands.

The man stopped stroking, but kept resting his palm on Yuri's forearm.

"Better?" the voice whispered gently from behind him.

"Mm," Yuri replied, breathing back to normal. "I'm sorry again."

The man clicked his tongue. "No reason to be." He paused. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Yuri shut his eyes. It was going to be difficult getting the words out, but he'll do it. He was stronger than this, even though he had a momentary setback.

"Did we...?" He let his voice hang in the obvious implication.

Yuri felt the man behind him freeze, his palm heavy and stiff on Yuri's arm. "You don't remember coming back to the room?"

_I don't remember anything._

"Uhh, no." 

The hand on Yuri squeezed and released and then squeezed again, as if unsure of what to do. At this point, it seemed obvious that the man behind him wanted to keep cuddling but wasn't sure if he could. So Yuri pulled a bold move before he could think it over: he grabbed the other hand and pulled it around him so that the other person's arm was wrapped around his torso once more. Then he felt, rather than saw, the bicep squeeze in appreciation.

The voice was slow to start, and Yuri basked in the morning huskiness.

"We -- danced more. Just the two of us here. And we talked. You--you told me about Vicchan. And the hot springs in Japan. You also told me about Yura not so nicely approaching you in the bathroom." He paused. "We kissed. I'm sorry if I overstepped, but it was quick, and, and--"

Sensing the other man's turn to panic, Yuri tugged harder at the arm around him, so that they were as tightly wrapped in each other as possible. He'd never fit so well to someone else's form before. If he could help it, if he didn't have a flight later on in the evening, he would have stayed in this position forever.

_Hopefully with more kissing he_ could _remember,_  his mind supplied unhelpfully.

"That's it?" Yuri asked shyly.

"That's it," the other man said firmly, but questioningly.

Yuri let out a shaky breath. His relief was palpable.

His bed mate requested, breathlessly, "Tell me what you're thinking. Please?"

Yuri didn't even think as he said, "I thought I lost my virginity and didn't remember it."

Silence. The arm around him tightened in the still air.

"...Virginity?"

Now it was Yuri's turn to freeze up as he realized what he just said. How come he said that?! 

"I mean-- I don't--! I haven't--!"

Instantly, he was turned back around so that he was facing the other man now. He was pulled into a hug before even having a chance to react properly and got a face full of strong, firm pectoral.

"My Yuri! I am just surprised is all, _solnyshko_! With how you were dancing last night, I assumed that--ahh, that doesn't matter. I shouldn't make assumptions."

Yuri, meanwhile, was flailing a bit as he tried mouthfuls of air against the man's smooth chest. He felt bad as his mouth left a trail of saliva, but he couldn't move back as he was being hugged tighter to the other person. This wasn't the making out he envisioned earlier.

"Please!" he cried out against the pale skin. "I can't breathe!"

"Oops! Sorry," the man said before separating the two of them. 

He then looked up at his supposed dance and kissing partner.

In his morning haze and lack of glasses, Yuri could make out the small smile on the man's face. He could also see the apparent glow that surrounded him as he looked down at Yuri fondly. But that wasn't what he was focused on. For years, Yuri had slept with posters of his idol lining his walls. For years, the first face Yuri would see in the morning was the one shaped by high cheekbones and crystal blue eyes. For years, he knew just what platinum hair looked like with blurry vision. He knew who we looking at, but he couldn't quite believe it.

"V-Viktor Nikiforov?!"

The man tilted his head. "Yes?"

Yuri was unsure if he was going to have another panic attack at the confirmation that he slept with and cuddled and kissed -- _kissed!_ \-- his childhood crush and idol. This was the man he fantasized for so long, whom he _wanted_  to sleep with for so long, and just moments ago, he wished the opposite in this bed. If he hadn't thoroughly assessed his predicament earlier, he would have thought he was still dreaming.

Granted, he was sure he failed in whatever he did last night too, and seeing Viktor's concerned face didn't do anything to assuage the self-deprecating thoughts. 

"Yuri...?"

Viktor brought his face closer, apparently in attempt to soothe or check on the Japanese man. It overwhelmed him.

"Do you not like what you see? Are you displeased with me?"

"No, no, no!"

"No?"

"I mean--Yes! I'm very pleased! I mean--you're, ah, I--oh God."

Though Yuri's eye sight was not good at the moment, he could see the smirk playing at Viktor's mouth. Viktor was playing with him, of all people. He wasn't sure how he got to this point, but he wasn't about to start complaining. Instead, Viktor brought him in again for a hug. Yuri let himself be cuddled by the other man as he was still reeling from the turn of events. 

_How?_

"How?"

"Hm?"

He could feel Viktor's hum because his ear rested against the Russian's neck. Yuri hadn't meant to vocalize his thoughts, but now that he had, he wanted the answer.

"How--" Yuri cleared his throat. "How did this happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"This--us."

"Mm, I like the sound of that. Us. Oh!" Viktor pulled back from the hug, and Yuri felt the loss immediately. But he couldn't deny that he didn't enjoy the glow that surrounded the Russian. He was very energetic in the morning, especially as he excitedly continued. "What do you say we get some _tvorozhniki_? Mm, I haven't been to Sochi in a while, but I can ask a couple friends for recommendations. What are your favorite foods? What is your schedule for today? What do you do in your downtime? I want to know everything about you."

Yuri felt dizzy from all the questions, but he couldn't back away as Viktor kept a tight grip on him. It was too much. He didn't know what to focus on, except for the fact that his original question was never answered. 

"V-Viktor!"

"Hm?"

"I'm very confused."

"What do you mean,  _solnyshko_?"

"How is this happening? How come you're talking to me? You didn't recognize me last night!"

Viktor gave him a blank look. "I don't know if I follow."

Yuri let out a frustrated noise. He always had trouble verbalizing his thoughts, and he was feeling frustrated. He pulled away from Viktor's grip to feel around for his glasses; luckily, they were easily found next to the clock, so he slid them on before turning around to his bed mate.

It was the first time Yuri got a good look at his idol up close. Viktor's arms were still open, as he looked at a loss without the Japanese man in his hold. He was so close that he could see the slight jut of lip that hinted a pout, and the slight wrinkling at his eyes. Yuri thought to earlier, when Viktor was keeping him grounded, and took note of the platinum hair in messy bedhead. He looked...ridiculous. It was almost too much a sight, but-- it felt right.

It felt like something he could wake up to regularly.

Minus the fact that Viktor looked like Yuri had kicked his Makkachin.

He had to focus. So he sat up, and tugged at Viktor to do the same. They were both sitting up and facing each other now, shirtless torsos exposed to the room. Yuri purposefully kept some distance, but didn't account for how distracted he'd be by the naked chest in front of him. It still had a red spot from where Yuri was cuddled up to Viktor earlier and Yuri's face heated up at the reminder that he had _mouthed_  that spot, had apparently _kissed_  Viktor the night before too.

Focus.

"Viktor, the last thing I remember was arriving at the banquet and sticking to the champagne table. After that, I don't...I don't know what happened."

The other man frowned at his words. 

"You don't remember the dance off?"

"Ah, no?"

"Or your pole dancing?"

" _Hah?_ "

"Or--or our dance?"

"Ahh--no, I--I don't remember any of it. I was pole dancing?"

Viktor looked dazed. He didn't acknowledge Yuri's question as he seemed deep in his thoughts. If Yuri could guess, he had gone a little too crazy the previous night; he probably channeled his Kyushu-bred father and gotten much too drunk and went off the rails. He suppressed a groan. Of course. Of course, he was probably a whole different person, and Viktor was disappointed that he wasn't the confident, assertive man he typically was while he was drunk. He was now apparent of just how much he failed last night.

"Look--I'm not typically like...how I am when I drink. It's not me. Who I am, just... So, it'll probably be best to forget whatever happened. I'm just sorry for last night--"

"Don't!" Viktor stared at him, hard. "Don't apologize to me. Please."

Yuri couldn't turn away, not when Viktor was staring at him like this. He didn't think he'd ever seen his idol so...passionate, off the ice. The other man looked determined, serious. 

"Last night," Viktor started. "Was the first time I've realized I'm missing something. I already knew I was unsatisfied--the rumors about me wanting to retire are sort of true, you know. I've been neglecting my life and needing love. When you walked in yesterday, I was drawn to you. It wasn't that you were so sexy while pole dancing with Christophe. ("HUH?") It wasn't even that you exuded so much confidence to challenge Yura to a dance off. ("What?!") And win, on top of that, despite your skating yesterday! It was your...openness. Your honest feelings when we danced, and when you asked me to be your coach."

Viktor trailed off, but Yuri had slumped over in shock. "I did _what_?!"

The other man laughed and looked fondly at him.

"Yuri, all that doesn't even compare to what happened in this room last night."

Yuri eyed him then, worried about what he would say. Viktor grabbed his hands and brought his fingers to his lips.

"You are beautiful, inside and out. Even though you were drunk, you were very honest -- I think -- with me, about your dog, and how you miss your home. You pulled me in with your words, and when we danced on this carpet here, I realized I wanted to--wanted to spend my time with you."

Now he was sure he was dreaming. He was 15-years-old and making up fantasies again.

"Yuri--talk to me?"

"It's...a lot." He breathed in. "I don't know if I told you last night, but...since I began skating, I had one goal. I wanted to skate on the same ice as you, as your equal. And yesterday, I failed that. Part of me feels like I'm cheating right now since you're noticing me, not because of my ice skating, but because I _seduced_ you."

"Yuri, you _are_  my equal. I don't know if you noticed, but you were a Grand Prix finalist..."

"But..."

"And besides, you did more than seduce me. The way you move spoke to me. You create music with your dancing, and I know that your skating wasn't your normal this week because of your dog."

"Viktor..."

"Yuri, you have the capability of meeting me at my level once you let yourself believe it. And I can always help you get to that point. I can coach you."

Too much, too much. It was something out of a romance novel, but Yuri didn't let himself fall into that mental and emotional spiral. He had to focus on the one thing that crossed his mind before he even knew this was Viktor.

Yuri placed a hand on Viktor's chest and leaned forward. When their lips touched, Viktor let out a soft moan that went straight to Yuri's pants -- or rather, lack of pants. The kiss was brief, but it lit a fire in Yuri. Apparently, it did the same thing in Viktor because when he pulled away, the Russian man was giving him a heated stare.

"Thank you," Yuri said simply.

Viktor's heat simmered into that warm glow once more. He didn't need to say anymore because Yuri understood and didn't let himself spiral, and maybe, just maybe got the make out session he really wanted that morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on making any part of this series from Viktor's POV, but I decided to make an exception for my first installment. The idea had gotten to me, and I just couldn't help a retelling of the banquet, even though midway I was impatient to get through with it, so I'm not happy with certain parts.
> 
> Feel free to talk about it with me! I'm open to critiques and comments!

 

Long before Viktor and Yuri ever kissed on that hotel room bed, Viktor was facing his own anxieties. Everyone, including living legends after all, faced some demons. He simply never associated these concerns with skating. Maybe it was just that it took just a little bit more for Viktor to feel nervous about much anymore, especially when it came to the sport.

 

However, this hovering grayness seemed to make its way into his skating. That's why in the months leading up to the GPF, he threw himself into his routine, the one with the music that moved him so. Every time he practiced the routine, he channeled the emotion he felt when he first listened to "Stammi Vicino," tried to put into movement the longing he had no idea that he had for someone else.

 

It was a strange few months, at least, as he tried to sort through these feelings. 

 

It wasn't that these emotions were new to Viktor, but they were certainly becoming more intense as the weeks led up to the Final. For some reason, it felt like his body was getting ready for something; Viktor couldn't exactly call it excitement, but at least he had some purpose.

 

When he finally won his fifth gold medal, he took it with a resigned smile. Whatever he was preparing for, whatever his body was thrumming with anticipation for, it wasn't _gold_ , and he felt disappointment wash over him as he looked at Christophe and the bronze medalist, someone who Viktor couldn't even spend a second thought on. There were many who were still looking forward to their next season, and now that Viktor had won his fifth...

 

Maybe _that_  was what he was getting ready for. 

 

For some reason, that idea didn't sit well with him, and all throughout the day, as he critiqued Yura, and greeted fans in the hallways, he was still thinking, "Now what? Now what do I want?"

 

Viktor didn't even have to wait 24 hours to figure out what he wanted.

 

Or, rather, who he wanted.

 

Viktor noticed Yuri early on in the banquet. He had looked so down and refused to let his coach cheer him up. It reminded Viktor of how he had mistaken the skater for a fan earlier, and how the skater had walked away so sullenly. Well, he did have every reason to be sad after the disappointing skate he had, but it still stung that Yuri had walked away like that...

 

That was why Viktor was caught off guard when he saw the drunken Yuri Katsuki making his way over to Yura and challenging him to a dance battle.

 

Viktor grinned, distracted from talking to sponsors. He was excited that Yura was actually being flustered and that this Yuri was acting so unexpectedly. He could admit that he was intrigued and surprised by the turn of events. It was just so... _hot. (_ So of course he started taking pictures.)

 

His thoughts were only confirmed as he _watched_ the dance-off.

 

Yuri was--beautiful. He was pulling some ridiculous moves so effortlessly, and managed to entertain positively everyone around him with a serene, focused smile. Where was _this_ confidence and excitement in his skating routine earlier? _This_ Yuri seemed to enjoy himself in every movement, and it seemed that he had gotten over whatever he was sullen about earlier.

 

So Viktor let himself get enthralled by the man's moves. It was mesmerizing. Even drunkenly, he seemed to be telling a story. He seemed to say to Yura-- _You know what, I've got this! I know I'm good. I know I'm better, so let me show the world!_

 

Viktor grinned at their competition. It was the most fun he had at a banquet in, well, ever. It only got more fun when Christophe decided to up the ante. Japanese Yuri had positively left Russian Yuri in the dust, and it seemed that Chris, who had also been taking pictures and videos of the whole back and forth, wanted to continue that energy. The Swiss man winked at Viktor before turning to a still-excited Yuri.

 

"Yu--ri," Christophe drawled before sauntering his way to the Japanese man. "You sure can dance well, but do you think you have what it takes to beat me at _pole_  dancing?"

 

Viktor's mouth dropped. Yura started yelling. Mila barked out a laugh. Everyone else seemed to gasp. Just what was happening at this banquet?

 

Yuri, who seemed to barely register the Swiss blonde hanging on him, fist pumped. He loudly said something in Japanese, and then continued drunkenly, "Pole dancing! Yes! I can do it!"

 

And it seemed that those were the magic words because seemingly in an instant there was some random pole (Chris's doing, no doubt), and Chris proceeded to strip for their dance off. Yuri didn't need telling twice. He rushed over to the pole, stumbling out of his pants along the way. Viktor felt his face flush as he took in the tight muscle of his thighs and glutes, now outlined through Yuri's dark boxer briefs. _That's not the only thing visible through his underwear,_ crossed Viktor's mind.

 

Like Viktor, everyone seemed distracted by the Japanese man rushing to the pole. Many had scandalized expressions as Yuri practically climbed his way on it, effortlessly swinging and posing. Chris, now almost naked in only his underwear, started taking pictures. Yuri Plisetsky was seething off to the side, playing on his phone. Mila started gasping and fanning herself. Sara, next to her, screeched in delight as her brother scoffed about the Japanese man's unprofessionalism and perversion. And Viktor...he just couldn't stop staring.

 

While earlier he was intrigued, he was now facing a whole different beast. He was electrified watching the skater dance in front of him, but even beyond that, he was mesmerized. Everything in Yuri's movements called to him like a siren, as if the man came out of every fantasy Viktor never knew he had. Yuri spun effortlessly before pulling himself up the pole. When he watched Yuri pull a move that he didn't even think was possible, he couldn't help but wonder just who this man was.

 

This kind of awe carried on for a while until Christophe decided it was his turn to shine. 

 

"You are truly seductive, Yuri," Chris interrupted, "but don't forget, this is a challenge."

 

From the pole, Yuri's eyes shined at his phrasing. Viktor wondered why; he wanted to know what the man was thinking. Did Yuri enjoy the competition? Was Yuri excited to watch Chris on the pole? Viktor wanted to know everything about who this man was.

 

And so they let Chris take the stage. 

 

He was a force of nature to be sure, and Viktor knew already that Chris moved with own certain magic, but his moves weren't enough to pull Viktor's attention away from the Japanese man on the side. Yuri was shimmying out of his clothes hastily, as if he couldn't wait to get back on the pole with Chris. He was now only in his underwear, tie, and socks, and it captured the attention of everyone in the room. Both he and Chris were a sight for sure as they switched off on the pole.

 

Then, it became less of a pole-dance-off, and more of a pair dance.

 

Something buzzed in Viktor as he watched Yuri and Chris move together in a way that both complemented yet egged each other on. As Yuri held onto Chris, he focused on his spins and grip on the pole. Viktor was admiring the way his abs clenched and his forearms flexed, so there was no way he could have missed the sudden shift in tone.

 

It seemed as if suddenly Yuri was staring back at him. And he seemed to turn on the seduction at the realization that he had an audience.

 

He and Chris then moved into a position that seemed impossible. All the while Yuri pulled himself on top of Chris, who was in a split position at the pole, he didn't take his eyes off the Russian. Viktor felt heat from head to toe at the thought that Yuri _noticed_ him, _watched_  him.

 

It almost felt impossible after he had been watching the Japanese man so intensely all night. It was a dizzying thought.

 

As Chris and Yuri's dance winded down, either because the Japanese skater won or because they were both so tired, other people began to notice that Viktor and Yuri were still staring at each other. Amused, Chris said something and helped Yuri back into his shirt. Too drunk, Yuri struggled in Chris's arms and tried taking off his clothes again, but only succeeded in getting his tie off. Once Chris wrapped it on his head, he excitedly pushed a drunken Yuri towards where a small audience had gathered to watch the dance off.

 

Yuri stumbled his way over to where Viktor and others were standing, and Viktor excitedly leaned over to catch the drunken man. 

 

"Hi," Viktor said awkwardly at the man who practically fell in his arms. He barely registered Chris's raised eyebrow at Viktor's uncharacteristic awkwardness. 

 

Yuri said something rapidly In Japanese, and Viktor could only tighten his grip onto the man's waist in response to how _cute_ he sounded. 

 

"English?" the Russian man prompted. Yuri nodded enthusiastically in return. 

 

"Were you watching?" the drunken man slurred. 

 

A light warmth made its way from where it was collected where Yuri's body met Viktor's and made its way to his nose. He didn't want to _admit_ just how much he was watching, yet he didn't want to be dishonest. 

 

"Yes."

 

"Really?!" Yuri exclaimed. His enthusiasm was cute.

 

"Of course," Viktor replied, nerves thrumming loudly in his veins under Yuri's grip. 

 

"Mm, didn't believe Chris," Yuri said before clinging a little tighter to the Russian. "I was dancing for you."

 

Then, several things happened at once. Yuri started rubbing on Viktor as if _he_ were the pole, Viktor felt his body physically respond to the scantily clad body clinging to him, and he heard Yuri begin to mumble about how he wanted Viktor to watch him dance forever. Viktor couldn't look away if he tried. 

 

Then, suddenly, Yuri said, " _Viktor_... After this season ends, my family runs a hot springs resort, so please come."

He looked up at Viktor with hazy eyes. "If I win this dance-off, you'll become my coach right?"

His eyes started to sparkle and then he threw himself fully at Viktor, "Be my coach, Viktor!"

 

Everything fell into place. The lackluster feelings, the anticipation for something new, the excitement in watching a Japanese skater dance the night away... It was all for this moment as Viktor's heart clenched in realization of something he missed. 

 

What was he missing?

 

He was thrown back into reality when Chris took a step forward and gently put his hand on Yuri's shoulder. The Japanese still started In Viktor's hands, trying to blink at the Swiss man. 

 

"Yuri, what dance-off are you talking about?" the bottle blond said.

 

Yuri squinted at him and tightened his grip on the taller man. 

 

"The one with Viktor, of course." 

 

Chris barked out a laugh. "Right, that one. Well? Go on!"

 

With a nod, Yuri separated from Viktor (unfortunately), and started to pull Viktor onto the dance floor. Viktor dazedly, unconsciously held on tight to the man pulling him.

 

"Oy, what do you and that pig think you're doing?!"

 

Both Viktor and Yuri paused to look back at Yura - whom Viktor only just realized was still hanging around the banquet. He saw the anger in Yura's posture, and couldn't believe the teenager was this put out. Maybe the earlier dance off really did a number on him...

 

"A dance-off apparently." He threw a wink at the boy for good measure. "Don't worry, I'll win for both of us." 

 

It only made the blond boy's face more angrily red, but at that point, Yuri had tugged Viktor all the way to the dance floor and there was no taking his attention away from his dance competition now. 

 

For who knows how long, Viktor had found himself lost in Yuri's arms and eyes. It was a different sort of watching when Viktor was this close to Yuri; earlier, he was all observer, taking in all the sights of Yuri Katsuki from afar. Now, he was watching, watching for every emotion in Yuri's expressive eyes, watching for his cues as Yuri led him across the dance floor, watching Yuri become more at ease in his presence. This sort of watching involved the senses, for he could hear Yuri's low calling, "Viktor, here," and the giggles under his breath. He could smell the sweat sticking to Yuri's skin--which shouldn't smell so appealing, and yet it did. He could taste alcohol on his own tongue, no doubt the same one on Yuri's, and Viktor wanted to know for sure. Viktor wanted.

 

He could feel. He could feel the shifts in their dancing, from upbeat and bouncy to playful and swaying. He could feel their heartbeats pulse in time with their movements. He could feel Yuri's breath against his skin with each turn and twist. He could feel how close they were getting to each other, and how each time they pulled away they both gasped. He could feel that there was something thrumming under the surface, an emotion he couldn't place, hadn't placed all night. He could feel every emotion of Yuri's as they moved together.

 

It was an amazing thing to be as one with another person as this. Yuri certainly had a way to rope others, as Viktor took note. Between himself, and Chris, and even little Yuri, the Japanese skater could grab the attention of the room with the way he moved: it was because he would create music with his movements. Viktor felt overwhelmed with the possibility that he was helping Yuri create that music.

 

For all his slurring earlier, Yuri never stumbled or shown his drunkenness during their dance. Instead, he gained the attention of everyone around, no matter how dwindling the crowd was in the late night. Viktor didn't care who saw because it was unlike anything he had ever felt.

 

He had never lived like this. 

 

But unfortunately, time couldn't let them go on, and neither could the GPF Banquet officials. Finally taking note of just how drunk Yuri was, they and the other skaters were ushered out into the hall and back to the reality.

 

In another world, Yuri would have stumbled off, away from Viktor into his own hotel room, and who knows when, _if_ they would have ever met again.

 

But in this world, as the others dispersed, Yuri was lucid enough to quietly ask Viktor to take care of him. And Viktor was a weak, weak man.

 

As they made their way to Viktor's room, Viktor took note of just how much Yuri was slowing down. He shuffled, not walked, and finally, started slumping against the wall.

 

"Yuri?" Viktor prompted.

 

The Asian man hummed in response. Instead of saying another word, Viktor grabbed him by the waist and guided the other man so that he was supporting him with his weight. They were quiet like this on the way up to the elevator. 

 

The air that had been thrumming earlier was still there, but it was... muted, softer. Yuri seemed to pick up on this, as he turned his head and buried his face in Viktor's shoulder. Viktor burned where lips met his deltoid, especially when he felt Yuri's lips move against it. But instead of doing what he _thought_  Yuri was doing, Yuri was actually mouthing words.

 

"Mm? What are you saying, Yuri?" Viktor prompted.

 

Yuri said something in Japanese before saying in English, "Yuuko would be very jealous right now."

 

Viktor chuckled, confused. "Yuuko?"

 

"Yuuko. She and I copied every one of your performances. You inspire me."

 

Viktor gulped, thinking about his very own _lack_ of inspiration. Suddenly, there was a shift in the elevator. Viktor looked down, and instead of that romantic air from earlier, something was off. Yuri buried his face in Viktor's shoulder more and started shaking.

 

Yuri mumbled, "I don't wanna go back to Japan. I don't want to fail. I want to skate. I want Vicchan. I want Vicchan."

 

His shaking intensified, and as Viktor made a move to do--something, the elevator dinged open.

 

Viktor was at a loss. He never could deal with crying people well. And even if he wasn't sure if Yuri was crying, he sure felt like he was something close to it. Plus, Viktor was put off by this idea that Yuri was missing someone called "Vicchan."

 

Was Viktor mistaken all along?

 

In any case, he still had a drunken Yuri to take care of, and so they hobbled their way to the hotel room. Unfortunately, it wasn't as luxurious of a room that Viktor would have preferred, but at least it still had a King size bed, one that should suit Yuri comfortably. Just as they were walking in through the door and Viktor was going to settle Yuri in, Yuri started heaving.

 

"I have to--" was all Yuri got out before he rushed to the bathroom.

 

Yuri didn't slam the door behind him, as Viktor expected, so Viktor got to see Yuri empty the contents of the night into the toilet bowl. It wasn't pretty, but it still tugged at the Russian's heart strings to see the Japanese man so miserable. Throughout the whole ordeal, Viktor tried to make the experience easier with wet towels and taking off the stiff clothes and glasses. He rubbed his back as Yuri moaned out his trouble. He gave him Gatorade in breaks. He held his hand when Yuri seemed to really struggle.

 

And when Yuri turned his head on the toilet bowl, giving Viktor this _look_ behind blurry eyes, well, it was all worth it.

 

He pushed Yuri's hair out of his eyes and quietly asked if he was better.

 

"You make it better," Yuri breathed out. Viktor's heart lodged in his throat.

 

"But," Yuri started to continue, to which Viktor's throat felt closed of for a different reason, "...but... But I miss Vicchan so much."

 

"Vicchan?" Viktor couldn't help but ask. "Is that an ex lover?"

 

Yuri shook his head vehemently, which seemed to dizzy the man. Instead, he pushed himself off the toilet and used the wet towel to wipe his face off one more time. He grabbed at his phone, which miraculously still had battery. With a few sloppy swipes, he seemed to get to what he wanted and shoved the phone under Viktor's nose.

 

Viktor was met face to face with the image of a tiny poodle. It was the cutest thing--other than Makkachin of course.

 

"That's Vicchan. He--he died. He died last night."

 

And it clicked into place. Viktor felt he didn't need to ask any more, but rather that Yuri would share on his own time. Viktor didn't know if it was why he drank so much, or why he was so despondent earlier, or why he completely messed up during his performance, but he knew that Yuri would share that in due time. Besides, it felt written on the Japanese man's expressive face.

 

After a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor like that, they both got up and got ready for bed. They both stripped to their underwear, in a way that was less charged than earlier in the banquet hall. They watched their faces and playfully shared glances as they brushed their teeth. Viktor was regretful that Yuri had to use the hotel provided one, but Yuri hardly seemed to care with the content on his face.

 

Viktor wanted to wrap him up and never let him go. 

 

When they were done in the bathroom, they slowly, awkwardly made their way back to the room where the bed lay waiting for them. Neither of them made a move to sit or lie down on it. Instead, they stood closer to each other until finally Yuri's head rested on Viktor's shoulder. It was a similar position to earlier, but this time, instead of speaking into Viktor's deltoid, Yuri spoke out clearly and in front of him.

 

"Vicchan was my everything. He was an anchor, but I hadn't seen him in five years. I've been a... bad owner."

 

He started to shake again, and this time, Viktor scooped him up so that they were now hugging. He let Yuri cling to him like this, unsure of what else to do. Viktor had never felt like he wanted to reach out and comfort someone, but here he was, inept. He must have done something right, because Yuri clung to his waist and spoke to his neck. 

 

"I named him after you."

 

"Hm?"

 

"I named Vicchan after you," Yuri chuckled wetly. "You were the biggest thing in my life, and it felt appropriate to name my best friend after you. I admire you so much."

 

Viktor gulped and gave one of his signature smiles. "Ah, am I your idol then?"

 

Yuri laughed, and Viktor found himself growing fond of that sound.

 

"I suppose you are, but you're more than that," Yuri said. "You're Viktor."

 

Viktor was unsure of what he meant and simply wrapped his shoulders around him instead. He turned his head away, thinking. Who was this man that had made him feel like this? Why was he feeling like this? His insides felt twisted up, and it was more than he had expected.

 

"Viktor."

 

He was pulled from his thoughts and pulled back from the man. He looked down at the heated expression staring back at him. It felt like earlier in the banquet hall, when Yuri noticed him watching, when he was pulling in Viktor with his gaze and his movements. There was nothing expected about this man.

 

"You hide yourself from everyone. You don't have to hide yourself from me."

 

Nothing expected.

 

"I won't," Viktor breathed out. "But only if you give me the same."

 

And he was suddenly aware of just what was going on all night. 

 

Yuri was _drunk_ , grieving his dog. If it were Makkachin, Viktor wouldn't want to be in a relative stranger's room. Viktor was selfish, he realized. But Yuri asked him to be open with him. He asked him for honesty. 

 

And then, "Please--stay with me."

 

Viktor felt a fire light in him. He couldn't exactly pinpoint where--his face? His groin? His heart? The only thing he could focus on was the light of Yuri's presence. 

 

"Yuri...you're drunk. I should take you to your room. This was a bad idea."

 

Yuri shook his head, the movement seemingly making his head spin as his body physically swayed with his head. Viktor kept his grip tight around the man's strong shoulders. Then, Yuri didn't seem to have any strength in him as he leaned forward into Viktor, keeping his head tucked into Viktor's slender neck. Viktor could feel every breath, every word Yuri said.

 

"Mm, _ie_ , _ie_ ," murmured the Japanese man into Viktor's neck. " _Partiamo insieme... Ora sono pronto..._ "

 

At the final lyrics to "Stammi Vicino," Viktor stiffened.

 

For so long, Viktor had felt this hovering loneliness, and in one night, that feeling changed. His whole world seemed to shift its center on this--Yuri Katsuki. Was this what his body was getting ready for? Being here on this carpet, holding Yuri? Viktor could only equate this feeling with how he felt on the ice back when he was a teenager, which was fitting because he felt so young in this moment.

 

Then, as if the man in front of him could be any more surprising, Yuri Katsuki started swaying purposefully. Viktor realized that Yuri was _leading_  him in a dance.

 

Viktor let Yuri lead him as he slowly swayed side to side. The younger man's hands made its way into Viktor's, one held up and the other gripped at Yuri's waist. Yuri let go of the one at his waist but held a firm grip with the other. Viktor couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and just let Yuri maneuver them as they held each other in this slow dance.

 

Once again, Viktor felt like they were creating their own music and he reveled in the sound he couldn't hear. 

 

This time, Viktor didn't just watch with everything he had. He logged everything in this moment to his memory. This dance was sweet, and slow, and just as perfect. And as they swayed side to side, he couldn't help but wonder... _Was this what I've been missing?_

 

As they danced, they talked deeper in the night. Yuri opened up about his family, and the spa they owned. Viktor initially thought it would be a full blown resort, but the way that Yuri had talked about his mother cooking for guests and his sister setting up the rooms, it seemed as if he wasn't as well off as he thought initially. And as Yuri opened up about his family, Viktor opened up about his lack thereof. They whispered fears to each other as they swayed, and how Yuri's fears were come true in the day. Viktor wanted to kick himself for initially mistaking Yuri as a fan, and at Yura for yelling at such a sweet man in the bathroom. 

 

Neither of them seemed to realize how long they had been like that, but when Yuri yawned against Viktor's jaw, it seemed like the appropriate time to turn in.

 

Viktor was just unaware of how pulling away would make him yearn for more that he didn't realize that he was leaning in.

 

It wasn't until he felt the rush of endorphins at the moment his lips met Yuri's that he realized he was going for a kiss. It was a soft and barely had movement, but Viktor never felt more alive.

 

They pulled away at the same time, eyes wide.

 

The moment was heavy, and Viktor was unsure if he should go in for another one, but slowly, Yuri's face contorted.

 

"I can't."

 

Viktor immediately froze. He was horrible; he violated Yuri when he was _drunk!_  And _he_ was tipsy too (drunk off Yuri's presence, to be sure), but that didn't excuse--

 

"I need to throw up."

 

They blinked at each other for a moment. Then, there was a rush of movement: Yuri scrambling away to the bathroom, Viktor stumbling after him, quickly grabbing the bottle of sports drink as they rushed to the toilet.

 

As he comforted Yuri once more, Viktor couldn't help but feel at home. Maybe they'd talk about it some more in the morning, or maybe they'd talk about it more down the line, but he had a good feeling about tonight and what was in store for Yuri and him.

 

And when Yuri squeezed his hand after lifting his head, Viktor was on the receiving end of that _look_  again, and he knew. He knew he would follow this man everywhere. He knew he would never stop watching. He knew that this was what he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way you can get that drunk without throwing up at least twice.

**Author's Note:**

> What even are endings.


End file.
